Inappropriate
by PhoenixPheathers12
Summary: "It was inappropriate, I knew that. I knew how wrong it was, how impossible it was. Being in love with your boss... It's a bit ridiculous, honestly. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't help my feelings. They were there, and they were so strong." Ten/Rose AU One-shot.


I know I've got two other stories I need to work on, but I just couldn't get this idea out of my head. I know there's probably a ton of grammar and spelling mistakes, since I kinda rushed through this, but I really just needed to get it out of my system.

Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: I only have partial ownership of Doctor Who. About 0%, I'd say. **

It was inappropriate, I knew that. I knew how wrong it was, how impossible it was.  
Being in love with your boss... It's a bit ridiculous, honestly. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't help my feelings. They were there, and they were so strong.  
Dr. Smith was an attractive man, tall and slim with wild brown hair and deep brown eyes. He always reminded me of a child at times, and when I first came here. I often saw him running around at lunch with the younger students, playing all sorts of games with them. And he always behaved with such a youthful, energized personality. It was a bit refreshing, to be honest, after spending so much time in college with all of the stuffy, uptight professor's.  
Of course, I quickly learned that his playful side wasn't the only side to him. He was also lonely, after his wife and children from his previous marriage had been killed in a car crash several years before. He was hurting, and he covered it with happy facade.  
He also was a force to be reckoned with, and when made angry, he was downright terrifying.  
He never got physical, he never shouted. He would be so eerily calm, his eyes dark with some unknown emotion, and he would just look at me... And it's a miracle I'm don't throw myself to his feet begging for forgiveness. Because all I can think when he looks at me that way is of all of the mistakes I've ever made and how disappointed in me he must be. And the thought of him ever hating me is unbearable.  
Because despite him being my boss, he's a principal that enjoys getting to know his staff well, especially the new ones. When I came, he seemed especially eager to know about me. And while getting to know me, we also seemed to grow rather close. Frankly, he's one of my best friends.  
A lot of the staff seem to feel that way, though. There's Mr. Harkness, the P.E. and sex ed. teacher. Or Ms. Jones, the health class teacher. I know for a fact she fancies him as well.  
Ms. Noble, the counselor, is rather fond of him as well, though she seems to act more like an older sister or a mother to him, which is more than comical to watch.  
He's so fond of everyone that I hardly seem like more than a blip in his long life and long list of friends.  
But I can't help but love him. And I know it's wrong, and I know it's impossible, and I know it's hopeless, but I positively adore the man.  
And it's strange because sometimes I catch him looking at me a certain way, or he'll say or do something that just gets me thinking that just maybe he might feel the same.  
I'm not an idiot, and I'm not blind. I know I'm beautiful. Maybe not the most gorgeous woman in the world, but I can almost always tell when a man wants me. I have enough experience to be able to recognize the sings. And sometimes, they are there.  
And then suddenly, they're gone and I'm back in reality.  
He's my boss. He's the bloody principal and I'm just the young new astronomy teacher with a penchant for trouble.  
So of course it's these sort of thoughts that are driving me mad every time that I see him, much like now.  
It was the end of the school day and all of the students had left. I was just finishing up grading papers when he casually strode him, his trademark grin on his face.  
"Good afternoon, Miss Tyler," he greeted formally, earning a tongue-in-tooth smile.  
"Dr. Smith," I responded enthusiastically, standing. As he walked towards my desk, I began backing my purse. "Good afternoon." I glanced up at him as he approached and noticed something unusual in his expression. He looked apprehensive and somewhat nervous.  
"Heading home?" he asked, his eyes flickering down to my bag.  
"Yeah. I just finished gradin' some tests," I answered slowly. He reached out and plucked a photo from my desk, one of my mother and I at a Christmas party.  
"Good, good," he murmured distractedly, staring at the photo. He cleared his throat and looked up at me suddenly, placing the photo down. "You look just like your mother," he told me. "Well, except younger, of course. Well, naturally. You don't look very old at all. Neither does she, but you are younger. And prettier. Not to say that your mother isn't pretty, of course, not at all. I just-" He stopped, his face flushed slightly in embarrestment, and cleared his throat again. "Sorry," he murmured, tugging on his ear, an adorable nervous habit of his that I loved.  
I giggled and slung my bag over my shoulder. "Is somethin' wrong?" I asked him, both amused and concerned. His eyes widened slightly, as if surprised that I picked up on his unusual behavior.  
"What? N-no, not at all. Nothing's wrong. I was just- I just wanted to pop in and say hello." His voice had risen a few octaves, and I smiled wider.  
"Hello," I laughed. "Is that all, then?" I moved to step around him, but he quickly snatched my wrist, surprising me. He seemed surprised by his actions as well and quickly pulled away.  
The skin where he'd touched me tingled at the loss.  
"N-no, that's not all, actually. I was uhm... I was wondering if maybe you'd like to grab some chips with me?"  
The offer caught me off guard. Not because it was unusual. In fact, we often went out for chips after work often with some of the other teachers. So why did he seem so nervous?  
A small spark of fear started inside of me, but I repressed it.  
"Of course," I agreed. "I'm famished. Chips sound brilliant."  
He seemed to relax somewhat and grinned. "Fantastic. Molte benne."  
"Who else is goin'?" I asked curiously, gesturing for him to walk out with me.  
"No one," he answered. "Just us. That's alright, isn't it?" he asked quickly, suddenly looking afraid again. My eyes widened slightly but I nodded.  
"'Course," I replied. "'Course it is." Again, he relaxed visibly. Together, we walked out of the school, chatting casually. We reached the chippy across the street, our usual, and sat in a booth across from each other.  
"So was there somethin' you wanted to talk about?" I asked him once we were seated.  
"Does there have to be a reason?" he countered, clearly attempting to avoid answering. "Am I not allowed to simply eat chips with a friend and coworker?"  
I raised a brow and popped a grease-covered chip into my mouth. "S'pose not," I murmured after chewing and swallowing. "But there is somethin' you wanna talk about."  
He opened his mouth to protest but closed it, seeming to be deep in thought. I watched him carefully, examining the crease between his two over-expressive eyebrows, and the adorable natural pout to his lip that was intensified in his concentration and resisted the urge to lean forward and take it between my teeth.  
That was completely and totally inappropriate and not worth the embarrassment that would soon follow. Or so I told myself. Honestly, I still wasn't completely convinced, but still managed to control myself.  
Something seemed to shift in his expression, and he seemed determined all of a sudden, as if he'd come to some sort of decision and was dead set on following it through.  
"What do you do if you have feelings for someone, and you know that they feel the same?" he asked me. His question was the last thing I expected him to say. It took me a moment to regain my composure before answering.  
"I- well, I suppose if I knew they returned my feelings I would ask them on a date or somethin'."  
"And what then? If they say yes, what do you do after?"  
What spurred these kind of questions? He'd never talked about anyone in his life that he'd had feelings for. Not, of course, that he'd talked about himself much, but I'd always been under the impression that he really didn't do relationships anymore.  
The thought of him loving someone else was like a blow to the chest, but I fought to keep myself together.  
"If they say yes, then I'd go on the date, I guess. And just... be with them. Why are you askin' me this-"  
"What do you do if you both have feelings for each other, but you're afraid?" he interrupted. I frowned and placed my elbows on the table, leaning towards him a bit.  
"What are you afraid of?" I asked. He leaned back, looking stricken.  
"Me? We're talking about you here, aren't we? We're talking about what you would do, not me," he protested. I leaned back against the seat and folded my arms over my chest.  
"Fine. What am I afraid of then?"  
He pondered my question for a moment. "You're afraid of losing the other person. Or of hurting them. Because you've done so much wrong in the past, and you don't want to scare them away. So you keep them at a distance and you don't let them in. Because it's what's best for them, really."  
"Well it's not my choice, really, to decide what's best for them. And if I really loved them, I'd take the risk of letting them see who I truly am. And if they reject me because of it, then I guess they never really loved me. And if that's the case, then maybe they don't really deserve my love."  
He shook his head. "No, no. That's not right. Because even if they did reject you, you'd still love them no matter what. And you can't help it really. How can you, when they're so fantastic the way that they are? I mean, really, it's their fault that you care about them in the first place. You didn't want to but they just had to go and be THEM that you can't help it."  
Whoever he loves, he must truly love them a lot, I thought to myself.  
"If you- if I really love them, though, it's worth the risk, isn't it? Because if they really do loved me, then they won't reject me. They'll accept me for who I am and we'll be together, happily, and in love. And that's far better than never know what would happen, isn't it?"  
He considered what I said for several long moments, and I resumed eating my chips as I let him think.  
"What if-" he began again. "What if you both love each other, but the relationship is inappropriate?"  
"In what way?" I wondered.  
"Well, what if you both work together, and being together might cause some problems at work?" he inquired, leaning towards me. So he loved someone from the school?  
For a brief moment I wondered if it could possibly be me, but pushed the thought away. He wouldn't be consulting me if it was.  
"Is this person that I love worth it?" I countered, leaning in as well so that our faces were only a few inches away.  
"Yes," he answered without hesitation. I smiled.  
"Then I wouldn't care. Even if I was afraid, and even if it might be inappropriate, if I knew they returned my feelings... I wouldn't hesitate to be with them," I told him honestly. He seemed to concentrate for another few moments, staring at me intently.  
His gaze was dark and intense, but it was different than the kind he usually wore when upset or disappointed. This one was warmer, one I'd never seen before, and it started a fire in the pit of my stomach. I couldn't look away.  
Before I could even register that he'd moved, his lips were suddenly pressed against mine, and his hand had lifted up to cup my cheek gently.  
The kiss was far too brief for me to return it, and then he was pulling away, just enough to meet my eyes. His hand remained on my face.  
I gaped at him for a moment, my heart panicking in my chest.  
Did he really just kiss me? Me?  
After a moment, I found my voice. "You kissed me." Maybe it would have been better if I hadn't though.  
His lips twitched in amusement. "Was that alright?" he asked, somewhat unsure.  
I swallowed and forced my thought into proper order. I was Rose bloody Tyler. I wasn't going to freak out over one little kiss. Clearly, I was wrong. The man liked me, by some great big miracle. No need to make a fool of myself over it. Instead, I had to take advantage of it before he changed his mind.  
"No," I told him honestly. "It was much too short, to be honest."  
His smile widened. "I'll have to fix that, then," he told me, and I was relieved to see that most of his nerves seemed to evaporate. Without hesitating another moment, I leaned closer and closed the distance between us.  
He met me, and our lips crashed together. He was clearly trying to be gentle and cautious with it, but I was having none of that. I grasped the lapels of his stupidly attractive pinstriped jacket and yanked him closer, deepening the kiss. He moaned in surprise but didn't fight it, his other hand moving to the back of my neck for leverage.  
I pulled his bottom lip between my teeth, an action I'd been dreaming of doing for nearly a year now, and traced it with my tongue.  
He ran his fingers into my hair and pulled away for air, grinning.  
"So how about that date, then?"


End file.
